


The Road To Enlightenment

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-20 03:31:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20668598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: Enlightenment - awakened understanding.When Christopher Hemmings, rising star of the United States Diplomatic Corps, and incidentally an old friend of Actor's, takes a personal interest in Garrison, Actor thinks it's an ideal opportunity for Garrison to receive some long-overdue enlightenment.  Things tumble out of control in a hurry, with repercussions beyond what could ever have been expected.  In the process, Actor discovers that HE is the one who must travel the road to enlightenment.





	The Road To Enlightenment

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place soon after story 'Powers Of Observation'.

*  
He had never been hesitant about entering Garrison's office, never felt he would be unwelcome there. Now, knowing he needed to get up from that chair in the library, make that long, very long walk, he hesitated, knowing that had all changed.

{"How do you say 'I'm sorry', when you've done the unthinkable? When you've jeopardized everything, simply because you misunderstood, how do you apologize? How do you say "I'm sorry. Please forgive me," when what you've done is perhaps beyond forgiveness?"}

He thought back, now, to what had brought all this to pass, and he cringed at the remembering. How he had thought he knew far better how things should play out, certainly better than those directly involved. After all, he'd told himself, HE was looking at the situation from an objective and unemotional perspective; was capable of being far more sensible, surely, than someone blinded by either casual desire or, quite possibly, simply the charm, the novelty of broadening one's life experience. 

He still wasn't sure he had been wrong about all of THAT; perhaps he had been right, and it was merely in the solution that he'd been so very, very mistaken. {"Merely?"} he chided himself at the attempted self-justification. He had a feeling he would have a better understanding after the upcoming conversation, that is, if Craig was willing to talk to him, and that was not a surety. Not after what had happened. What might have happened. And what might still happen.

*  
Actor's meeting with Christopher Hemmings, rising star of the United States Diplomatic Corps, a man rumored as being in line to be the next Ambassador to Great Britain, had been purely happenchance. They'd met previously in Washington, had gotten along well, and the reunion was a pleasant one. That Christopher preferred men to women, that had never been a deep dark secret, not to his very closest friends anyway, though he had never flaunted it publicly. He DID have his career to consider, and even then his star was obviously on the rise. 

His preferences had certainly been no barrier to the friendship he and Actor had established. Christopher preferred men, Actor preferred women, at least, for both of them, most of the time. It was not a matter of which either made much note, had no impact on their time together - time spent enjoying fine brandy and discussing politics, wine, literature, music, and all the various other things educated men of their level of sophistication considered important.

They had been enjoying a drink in the bar at Hotel Marchant when they had been joined by Garrison, Chief and Goniff (Casino having landed in the hospital after a bad tumble that last mission out). Introductions were made, and another round of drinks ordered. 

When he'd seen that flash of intense interest in Christopher's sparkling blue eyes when they rested on Craig, it had seemed an ideal opportunity to remedy a situation he had found vaguely uncomfortable.

After all, while Actor had not actively discouraged Craig in his newfound relationship with their Cockney pickpocket, was even cautiously supportive, inwardly he couldn't help but feel it was an unfortunate alliance. 

Oh, it wasn't that he disapproved in general; he'd had a few such male relationships in the past, found them pleasant enough. And perhaps it was safer for their team leader than a relationship with a woman would have been, less likelihood of things getting overly emotional on either side. Still, a more sophisticated companion would surely have been a better choice for the young officer.

'Enlightenment'. It was something Actor had been thinking a great deal about lately, wishing he had a way of bestowing a little more of that on their young, in some ways, rather naive young lieutenant. After all, it could only be to Garrison's benefit, and the benefit of the team at large. Oh, he admitted, in some things, like coming up with ways to thwart the enemy, Craig Garrison was quite effective, amazingly intelligent, in fact. But in other areas? Well, that was a quite a different matter, at least in Actor's opinion. Yes, a little enlightenment would be quite beneficial there.

It hadn't been all that difficult, just a matter of quietly mentioning to Garrison that it might be a good idea to send Goniff and Chief over to keep an eye on Casino, that he was probably getting bored and that that always led to trouble. Then, getting a conversation going between Christopher and Craig and himself, finally excusing himself to attend to 'a prior engagement', leaving those two to become better acquainted.

It wasn't surprising to find, the next day, that the two men had gotten along well, had a great deal in common, though it seems conversation was the extent of it. Well, Actor hadn't expected much else, not this soon. Christopher surely knew not to rush his fences, and Garrison would have most likely been put off by too bold an approach. Still, it had seemed a good start to what could be a congenial and probably enlightening friendship between the two. And when Christopher had suggested other occasions for the three men to perhaps share a drink, some conversation, Actor had thought it quite reasonable for him to arrange that.

Now? If he could go back, do it all over again? . . . 

*  
A week later, the bar at Hotel Marchant -

They'd ordered a drink, those who'd arrived first, Goniff and Meghada. Chief came next, then Actor. Six o'clock, they'd all agreed on. Time for a drink, then a visit with Casino, still stuck in hospital, though the doctors had said he would be released in the next day or two. Then on to dinner. Only Garrison was still absent, though he'd promised he'd be there.

Actor glanced at his watch. "I know it's only ten minutes past, but still, it is most unlike Craig to be late like this. Ah, well, perhaps he ran into Christopher and decided. . .", stopping when he remembered Christopher Hemmings was probably a bit of a tender subject, especially with Goniff. 

He'd picked up some stirrings of tension in their team leader {"probably Goniff is exhibiting some petty signs of jealousy, which is ANOTHER reason it would be better if Craig turned his attentions elsewhere quickly. We hardly need any disruption to the team."}

He wasn't privy to any details, of course, but he felt sure the more sophisticated Christopher would have dulled any residual attraction Garrison might have had toward their uncultured little pickpocket by now. That possibly had not gone over so well with Goniff, but it would soon be shrugged off, he was sure of that. Goniff was a realist, after all, took most things with amazing good humor, even if he occasionally got a little testy to begin with. 

And, yes, as he'd halfway expected, Goniff frowned and spoke up quickly at the mention of Christopher's name, but not as Actor might have expected - a snide remark, even a quickly-put-together joke, but with a sharp, very serious concern.

"Just 'ow well do you know this bloke, Actor? The Warden says 'e's getting a funny feeling about 'im. I know 'e was going to go over those papers for 'im a little earlier, but 'e wasn't looking forward to it. Doing it more as a favor to you, since you'd been the one making the suggestion. Said right out 'e'd be 'ere on time, or not more than just a few minutes late. Said if it turned out more than that, 'e'd call the bar to let us know. Even laughed, said if 'e wasn't 'ere, to come fetch 'im! Got the feeling 'e wasn't joking about that, neither. Bloke's getting 'im right skittish."

That caught Actor's attention, all of it, but in particular about his own supposed involvement. He frowned, puzzled, "a favor to me? How? And what papers?"

Now everyone's attention was focused, worry starting to show on everyone's face. Goniff was now deadly serious, even more worried since the conman truly seemed to know nothing about that request.

"This Christopher called earlier, said YOU said the Warden'd be the best one to make sense of that report 'e got out of one of 'is contacts across the way. Warden tried to put 'im off, said the two of you could meet 'im in the morning to go over it all. But the bloke said it couldn't wait, that 'e 'ad to put it before the big shots at the Foreign Service office right smart. That 'e'd run into you on the street and you'd assured 'im the Warden'd be willing to 'elp."

"I did see Christopher earlier, yes, but there was no mention of any papers. I certainly did not . . . Do you know where they were to meet?" he asked, now becoming worried himself. He wasn't sure about what, exactly, perhaps it was simply a misunderstanding on Goniff's part. But if it WASN'T, for Christopher to have misrepresented, no, to have LIED like that, was most troubling.

"Sure, wrote it down on the pad for 'im while they were talking. 'E was trying to manage the phone, and finish shaving, AND do up 'is pants, and 'e didn't 'ave any 'ands free for the pencil and paper. Twelfth floor, rear flat, that posh new place on Manchester and Devon that lots of the FS blokes stay w'en they're in town doing w'atever the ruddy 'ell it is they do." 

If nothing else, it was becoming clear that Garrison and Goniff had been together when that call came through, and that was something Actor hadn't been expecting. 

"I don't like it," Meghada said flatly, with Chief nodding in agreement; Goniff was already standing, turning, ready to head out for that Manchester and Devon set of flats. A quick throwing down of some bills to cover the tab for that first set of drinks, mostly untouched, and they were out and gone.

*  
When there was no answer to their quiet knock, they listened closely. At the sound of footsteps and a subdued moan, they entered the room in a determined surge, surprising Christopher in the process of reloading his camera. Craig was sprawled across the bed, his eyes confused, bleary. A moment later, he leaned over the side of the bed and vomited convulsively. 

Actor hurried towards him, only to be pushed out of the way, "keep your ruddy 'ands off 'im, Actor! You've already done more than enough. 'Gaida will see to 'im."

Shocked, Actor turned to reprimand Goniff; after all, he was their field medic. Something in that snarl told him he'd probably be better off holding his tongue, and a glance at the equally fierce glare on Meghada's face told him she strongly agreed. 

"Actor, if you want to be helpful, I suggest you try and find Craig's clothing," Meghada told him in a cool voice. "Grab that camera from your friend. And perhaps check to see if there are any other rolls of film or such little souvenirs around. We can't leave ANYTHING that would lead back to Craig or to us."

Chastened, Actor did as he was told, putting together a small collection of items by the time he was finished. He risked a look at Hemmings, no longer trying to bluster his way past a stony-faced Chief and his drawn knife, but still obviously thinking he could brazen his way through. The man certainly hadn't put up any resistance when Goniff and Chief had shoved him back and down into that armchair; indeed, had quickly raised his hands in a mocking 'I surrender' pose, the camera landing on the carpeted floor with a soft thud.

Goniff had joined Meghada in helping the exceedingly groggy Garrison into his clothes, carefully, trying not to jar him too much. 

"Wait," Craig whispered, as they tried to get him up. "I don't remember . . . I need to know . . . Why? I told you I wasn't interested," he said, looking directly at Hemmings now.

That elegant representative of the Foreign Office merely looked somewhat amused at the question, at that declaration. "My dear boy, how would you know? You never let me finish what I was saying, and didn't even want to look at my 'memory book'. Really, you should be flattered. It's not everyone I take a fancy to. And someone with such promise, such potential!"

That got a puzzled look, not only from Garrison but from the rest, until Chief, thumbing through a pocket diary, frowned suddenly. "Seems like money's changing hands real often. No names, just initials. Nothing really big, except for a couple, but the rest are real regular. Bring anything to mind?"

Actor frowned as well, holding out his hand for the small book, looking at the entries over a period of months. "Yes, actually. Six sets of initials, monthly entries for each; varying amounts overall, but the amounts for each set being the same. Blackmail, Christopher? Are you paying it or receiving it? And the two larger amounts? What might they represent?"

Garrison blinked rapidly, more alert now that he'd gotten at least some of the drugged whiskey out of his system, trying to put it together, what he'd heard and seen when he'd been unable to function otherwise. He NEVER wanted to re-live that feeling - his mind at least reasonably clear, his body totally unresponsive, unable to even pull away from the indignity of being stripped and posed for the camera!

"Payoffs for the information he's selling, to the Germans, I think. He was talking on the phone, about how he has a new 'source', should have some interesting details about the Allied clandestine operations shortly, setting a price. I think I was intended to be the source. For that AND for future blackmail payments. He has pictures - not me, not the ones I think he took here today, developed ones of others; he was showing them off, right in the middle of the rest of those papers I was supposed to review, til he realized my reaction wasn't what he was hoping for, to them OR to his suggestions. Find them, we can't leave them for anyone else to find. In a book, 'Fortune's Folly'. He called it his 'memory book'. But there may be others. Make sure we get everything!"

It took only a few minutes to locate the leather bound book, the insides cut away to form a safebox. It appeared to be the only cache, at least here, and they'd worked the room over damned good.

Six paperclipped sets of photographs, each set progressing from simple nude photos of a possibly unconscious or semi-conscious man, on through increasingly interactive encounters, that man and Christopher, the man and another unknown man, then the man and other unknown men, plural. Well, yes, there HAD to have been at least one other man involved, since someone had to handle the camera while Christopher was otherwise occupied.

"Yeah, those'd cause some noise," Chief remarked, taking a fast glance. He flipped them over. "Names, dates, other stuff."

Actor took the stack, after one fast look ignoring the photographs themselves, focusing on the rest. He raised his brows in surprise, "I recognize some of the names. No, they would not want these to be made public. And one or two are in positions of considerable influence, would be privy to information quite valuable on the open market."

Hemmings shrugged laconically, acknowledging all of that. "So, now what do you intend?"

He snorted with amusement at the snarl from Goniff and the deep growl from Chief, not to mention the Celtic curse thrown his way from Meghada. 

"Oh, don't give me dramatics, please! It's really ever so tiresome! And there really is little you CAN do, you know. I assure you, MY friends and associates are much more influential than any of you. Including the ones in those sets of photographs; whether they were particularly happy about their little adventures or not, no one there would want any of that to be made public. And there are some who are not contributing to my bank account, you see; they are involved only because I occasionally, well, share, you might say. Tit for tat, as they say.

"I suggest you gather up your oh-so-tiresome lieutenant and leave," giving a quite elegant little yawn to express his utter boredom with the whole matter. "It's a pity I have to forego the photographs I just took, though I gather that is inevitable. However I would SO regret losing my notes and my memory book, as well as my camera. I don't suppose you would like to exchange all of that for my promise to be discreet about THIS little episode? After all, I imagine your lieutenant's superiors wouldn't be so pleased with his involvement, and it would only be his word against mine that it hadn't been HIM approaching ME, you know. All those influential friends of mine will certainly vouch for ME.

"And I must say, old friend, I found it most disconcerting to have been so misled. It seems you rather misrepresented the situation, or at the least, failed to clarify my misreading of the situation. I had expected him to be not only willing, but at least mildly eager for a sophisticated interlude; instead, I might as well have been attempting to seduce a blushing virgin for all his indignation and protests! Why, he even hit me, if you can believe," rubbing his jaw ruefully. "If I hadn't already administered that dose in his whiskey while we were first discussing those amusing and quite fabricated papers I had prepared, I do believe he might have gotten the better of me!"

He pouted a little, and sighed. "I admit I DO regret having decided to take the pictures FIRST. Now you have the film and I don't even have any sweet memories to keep me warm." That smile aimed at Garrison was one of total invincible self-confidence.

Goniff growled audibly, "get Craig out of 'ere, Chief. Actor, go with 'im. 'Gaida . . ."

"I think I'll stay here, laddie, help translate some of that Cockney cant of yours for Mr. Hemmings," she replied comfortably, with an easy smile. "You KNOW how you get! You can, in return, translate some of my more obscure Celts for him, yes? Being such a refined, sophisticated type, I doubt he has much experience with either. However, I am sure we can remedy that lack in no time. Chief and Actor can manage quite well. Go along, gentlemen. We'll be back to the car soon, after we explain a few things to Mr. Hemmings, in perhaps a variety of languages. Take that stack with you, everything; we'll figure out what to do with it later."

It was a slow process back to the car, Garrison still shaky on his feet, and they hadn't gotten in and settled, been waiting for more than twenty minutes when they were joined by Goniff and the redhead. 

"Come on, Chiefy, let's 'ead back 'ome. Or should we stop at the 'ospital and let James or Patrick give you a good once-over, Craig?" giving Garrison a concerned look.

He got a miserable excuse for a smile. "No, other than being sick to my stomach, I'm fine." 

Well, they couldn't have expected any other response, really - that was his standard. "I'm fine!" How many times had they heard THAT??!

"Craaig," came as a drawn out warning from the Englishman, along with an arch look of reprimand, and THAT drew a more sincere smile from Garrison, and even elicited a smile of amusement from the others.

"I mean it, Goniff. I'm okay, really. I promise," green eyes meeting blue ones straight on. Satisfied, Goniff gave a brisk nod, and turned to Chief.

"Alright then, let's get the ruddy 'ell out of 'ere."

"And quickly, if you would, Chief. Best to avoid the main street, though; I believe we might encounter a bit of a delay otherwise. Seemed to be some sort of fuss going on there," Meghada offered, and they were off.

*  
By the time Casino made his limping way up those steps at the Mansion, it was all over. Well, except for the swirling emotions and bevy of ill-feelings that had an almost physical presence for being so strong.

He'd gotten the short, somewhat edited story, and was now trying to figure things out.

"So, am I missing something? I mean, yeah, Actor should have his head examined, thinking the Warden'd be interested in that Christopher guy. Hell, Warden said it himself, he's turned off the tap til after the war, not that I understand that, but what the hey. And a guy?? Can't see the Warden ever going in that direction! 

"But knowing the guy was shady? Looking to feather his own nest AND dig up info for the krauts?? Hell, no one else picked up on it; don't see that's Actor's fault if he didn't either."

"That aint what they're so pissed off about, Pappy," Chief said with a disapproving look; the safecracker was supposed to be resting that leg, not marching around the room like that. "Well, the first part, yeah, but you're right, no one else caught on, those other places he's been. He had a solid rep, long as no one got to turning over rocks."

Casino persisted, "so why's Goniff look like he's thinking about poisoning that fancy pipe tobacco? Why's the Warden not even talking to Beautiful unless it's strictly business, and Beautiful not talking to anyone else? Why do YOU have that dark cloud hanging off you? Shit! Get banged up, land in the hospital for a couple a weeks, and the whole team goes to hell!"

Chief let a tiny smile escape. "Yeah, that's it, Pappy. Takes you being here to keep it all running smooth. Now you're back, it'll all fall back into place, most likely." 

Casino growled, "you aren't gonna tell me, are you, Indian?" giving his teammate a disgusted look.

"Let it rest. Like I said, they'll all calm down, now you're back." 

{"And once Actor crawls down to make his apologies to the Lieutenant. And once Goniff figures out how to tell the man what needs to be said so there's no mistake, a way that don't end with Actor bleeding all over the place. Actor's not so dumb; he'll maybe figure it out, when to keep his nose outta their business. Casino? Well, he aint dumb either, at least about some things, but he don't see what he don't wanna see. No sense making his head explode by explaining too much before he decides to get wise."

*  
"Craig, I, I'm sorry. I truly did not understand. I realize that now, that I totally misunderstood that what there was between you two was more than casual." 

Well, he was sorry for much else, including trusting Christopher and his intentions, failing to see the manipulations and the danger, and he had already apologized for that. But now this seemed the most important thing to convey, at least at this moment, to this angry man, for if he hadn't made THAT mistake, the misunderstanding, he never would have encouraged Christopher in his pursuit in the first place. The rest, what he needed to say to the other members of the team, that was another matter entirely, but that was for later. First this. 

Garrison raised bloodshot eyes to his SIC. He couldn't even work up enough energy to yell, to rage; he was too drained by the past forty-eight hours. Despite his earlier protests, that dose in his whiskey really HAD done a number on him, never mind all the rest.

"And what did you think, Actor? I thought I'd explained - what did you think in all I said was so unimportant that you would . . ." His voice cracked, and he couldn't continue.

Actor looked at their young commander. How do you tell a man that you had misinterpreted, trivialized his words, his emotions to the point of thinking them irrelevant, perhaps even non-existent? 

And, with a unexpected degree of awareness, wondered how he could have so discounted Goniff, a man who, no matter his apparent shortcomings and quirks, was just as much a part of the team, just as important to its survival, its wellbeing, as any of the others. Especially to their leader, one who obviously cared so deeply for that man, cared in an intimate way the others could only imagine. 

If Christopher had been someone else, if Actor's interference had proved successful and a new relationship replaced the other, would Goniff had been willing to stay with the team, or would he have simply disappeared? Actor was struck by that thought, knowing that their survival depended on the chemistry, the bond between them all; would the team itself have survived such a move? Actor was more than a little humbled at how close he had come to destroying it all.

But, in his own defense, he had thought, really HAD thought, what Garrison had tried to describe was only the quite natural affection one would feel after that first relationship with another man, and he was quite sure it HAD been the first for Garrison. 

And it HAD seemed a reasonable assumption to him. After all, Actor had felt a strong affection for Emil, HIS first male lover, still thought of him with great fondness. He had thought it no more than that, perhaps even less, considering the distance he saw between these two men, in authority, in social standing, in education and in so much more. Surely if it had been more than that, Garrison would have said so, not spoken in terms pointing more to a general awakening to the possibilities of the varied experiences life could offer than anything else, anything more intimate, more meaningful.

But obviously he had mistaken the matter entirely, as was evidenced by the events of the past two days.

In fact, he remembered, with great humiliation, once he'd become aware of the unexpected relationship, he had even considered stepping in, dissuading their young lieutenant, causing him to break off the relationship with their pickpocket; perhaps initiating a relationship of his own with the young officer instead. 

Oh, he hadn't felt the need, any real attraction other than friendship, perhaps compassion, not personally; his attraction was primarily toward females, though he was experienced in both fields. But still, he had felt he would certainly be a better, more trustworthy one to mentor the young man in this new venue. 

After all, he felt quite capable of delivering a little advanced education in an area the lieutenant was surprisingly becoming interested in. Interested, perhaps, but was obviously not experienced in, not if he had selected Goniff, of all people, as his first.

Now, he only wondered at his own temerity, his blindness in not seeing what the truth really was - not a casual relationship of convenience born out of proximity and mild affection, but something more - a bond, at least on Garrison's side, that could truthfully be called love. What Goniff considered it, that was possibly, probably something quite different, of course. The two men WERE totally different, after all. But that thought brought him right back around to the beginning, and his confusion, while perhaps lessened in some respects, still remained in others.

In the end, Garrison had just sat back and sighed. "Alright, Actor. You screwed up and you know it. It's done, as far as I'm concerned. Make your peace with the others, Goniff included, whatever that takes, but do it fast. We've got a job to do, and we need you, Actor. Get it back on an even keel. And Actor? Do NOT think to interfere in my private life again, ever. Is that clear? All of it??"

{"So I am to be allowed to stay, but not on the same footing, not on the same level of friendship as before."}. Actor felt both relief and a deep sense of loss as he quietly pulled that door closed behind him. 

*  
Actor made his way upstairs to where Goniff and Chief were waiting in the Common Room, Casino already sacked out in the Dorm under the influence of those pain pills. He doubted this would be any easier than the discussion with Garrison, and he was right. 

At least it seemed that, like Garrison, they were going to let him have his say. That didn't last long, before Goniff boiled up, snarling at him, calling him a few choice names, only some of which Actor knew the meaning of. THOSE, however, were quite clear to him, and he was sure the ones he didn't know were in the same vein.

Actor responded with appropriate indignation, especially to that last name. While Garrison might have had more than sufficient reason to be deeply annoyed, he hadn't gotten insulting about it, not in the way the pickpocket was being. He would have sat quietly, accepted such from their leader - well, perhaps. He had no intention of accepting such denunciations from Goniff!

"I am in no way a 'ponce', as you so charmingly put it, Goniff! I intended only to facilitate an introduction to someone I thought would provide Craig with more sophisticated companionship than he gets otherwise. It seemed they would have much in common, similar backgrounds, similar degree of education and societal polish. I certainly intended no harm to come to Craig! Christopher Hemmings never gave the slightest indication of being anything other than what I had known him to be in Washington - a charming, pleasant, knowledgeable man with a brilliant future in front of him. Someone who would be an appropriate and congenial companion for the lieutenant."

His response did not end there, of course, being it was Actor, but continued on in much the same vein for several minutes. 

If he thought his quite reasonable (at least to him) explanation would be an end to the matter, calm the troubled waters, he was greatly mistaken.

Chief had sat quietly, disgust increasingly written all over his face as he listened. 

Goniff, on the other hand, had obviously been struggling to keep calm, to consider everything Actor had said. Then, he shoved back from the table, stood up and walked to the window, then to the bookcase, then seemed to settle on a traffic route to accompany his response. A response that started off reasonably calm, but disintegrated rapidly.

"So it boils down to you thinking I'm not good enough for 'im. That 'e deserves more than some raggedy-arsed Cockney with nothing but 'is sticky fingers to 'is name? That 'e'd do better with some well-off bloke, a toff? Someone like Christopher ruddy 'emmings?"

Goniff was pacing the floor of the Common Room, running his hand through his hair, casting the occasional glare of intense frustration in the conman's direction. 

Chief was leaning back in a chair, only the rear two legs on the floor, stroking his knife slowly, carefully watching both men. He tensed when Goniff momentarily lost control, slamming his hand into one of the other chairs, sending it flying before it crashed to the floor. Chief glanced at the doorway, hoping that hadn't roused Casino; this wasn't something their teammate needed to get in the middle of, would probably only up the ante on the possible fallout. Now, stroking his fingers easily along the blade of his knife, he continued his watching of the two verbal combatants, not taking any other action, but ready to step in if need be. 

Actor was now careful to remain as still as possible, aware that any movement, any word could prove too much. The almost-palpable scent of potential violence was just too strong to do otherwise, the feral rage pouring off their pickpocket in waves. He hadn't been expecting this, didn't know how to respond.

"Ruddy 'ell! Not w'at 'e deserves?? Not good enough??! Blimey, Actor! You think I don't know that??! Aint blind, you know, OR stupid! Thing is, w'at 'e maybe deserves is not w'at 'e seems to want, now is it? And aint that something for 'im to decide, not you?? Didn't go asking you to go playing matchmaker, did 'e?

"And you know something, Actor? I may not be another Christopher, with 'is fancy education, fancy job, smooth as silk manners; I know that as well as anyone else. But you know something else, 'ow ELSE I'm not like your precious Christopher??"

Though the rage had not diminished one bit, those blue eyes were faintly misty now, a mist Goniff quickly blinked away as he forced the words past a jaw that was firmly set.

"Craig's not going to get a letter or a phone call from me someday, saying I'll spill everything to HQ if 'e don't pony up with some 'eavy cabbage. Not gonna find me trying to farm 'im out to my friends for a little fun, like a couple of those pictures showed. Not gonna 'ave to worry I'm gonna get pissed out there w'en we're on a job, leave 'im and the team in the lurch cause of it. Not gonna find I've been picking up little tidbits of information from 'im and turning them over to the enemy cause I like their politics or maybe their money more than I care about 'im. 

"No, 'e's gonna find me right beside 'im, 'elping in any way I can, for as long as I've got breath and for as long as 'e needs me there. 

"And if there comes a time w'en 'e's ready to move on, wants to call it quits? I'll step aside, whether I'm ready or not, cause between you and me? I can't see me ever being ready, you know? And if that 'appens, 'e walks away, 'e's gonna know all it would take is one sign from 'im that 'e needs me, in any way, for w'atever reason, and I'll be there. I'll ALWAYS be there for 'im, if 'e needs me! That's ANOTHER way I'm not like your ruddy Christopher and any other toffs you're thinking of lining 'im up with!" 

Goniff stopped his pacing and drew a very deep breath, pulling control closer and holding on with all his might. Whether those tears blurring his eyes were tears of fury or something else, he didn't even bother to consider. 

That palm knife in his waistband felt hot against his skin, tempting him, imploring him to pull it out, use it. But as tempting as that idea was, maybe leaving Actor with a nice little reminder for him to consider every time he looked in the mirror, that wasn't what Craig and the team needed from him, and he knew it. No matter his inclinations, he kept in mind what was important, and bit down the urge for all the rest.

Well, there was another way to handle this, a way that would get the job done if Actor was half as smart as he seemed to think he was. Course, that was about twice as smart as GONIFF sometimes thought the conman was, so there was no guarantees this would do the trick. Still . . .

He stepped closer, stood very still and looked Actor square in the eye, intent on making his point.

"Aint saying I don't understand, Actor, cause I do, at least partly. Craig, the team, they're important to both of us - you figured we'd all be better off with 'im settled elsewhere, at least on the personal side of things. Cause of that, more cause Craig wants, needs the team together and strong, I'm gonna let this drop, pretend it didn't 'appen, least as much as I can."

There was a long silence, then those now downcast hazy blue eyes moved upward once again, settled to look into Actor's once again, and there was a deep, almost ancient truth waiting in those eyes, that low-pitched voice.

"But, I gotta tell you, and you damned well better listen good. You do something like that again, no matter 'ow right you think you are? Put 'im in that kind of position, w'ere 'e could get 'urt or worse? Because of your 'igh and mighty opinion that you know ruddy well more than anyone else about 'ow everyone else should live their life??" 

His voice faded to a bare whisper, "that 'appens? I'll gut you, Actor, without thinking twice, and aint nobody ever finding the body. Just so you understand." 

Somehow that overly-calm statement, those steady blue eyes, {"such cold blue eyes!"} convinced Actor as perhaps nothing else could have. 

Whoever, whatever he had imagined this man to be, thinking him someone to be discounted in any area other than the man's professional talents as a pickpocket and second-story man, someone certainly unworthy of Garrison's attentions - that wasn't who was facing him right now, and he knew he was exceedingly lucky that Goniff hadn't taken more drastic action instead of issuing that cold warning. 

Now, he realized that, between Goniff and Meghada, he possibly should be grateful that he was still breathing. Christopher Hemmings certainly wasn't. A dive out of a bedroom window on the top floor of a twelve-story building will often have that result. The authorities had called it suicide, that broken neck and other injuries having been incurred in the fall, but Actor had doubts whether the man's abrupt exit had been voluntary. He had certainly seen no signs of such intentions, and the crowd had been gathering long before Goniff and Meghada had rejoined the men in that waiting car. Yes, considering everything, Actor considered himself quite lucky. Quite lucky and very tired, and very old, all of a sudden.

{"Is it a sign of maturity, that one no longer automatically assumes one is right in all things, or is it a sign of old age? Or merely an indication that wisdom, enlightenment, does eventually arrive, however slow the process and how unlikely the source or circumstances."}

For now he was no longer certain he was always right; indeed, was increasingly sure he was quite frequently wrong. Was looking at things from a common, but not necessarily accurate perspective. Perhaps it was time he thought things out more, tried to see things differently. After all, since when had he ever sought to align himself with the ordinary, anyway??

Right or wrong, whatever the perspective, he knew that it was due to Goniff's forebearance that he was still breathing; certainly no one else could have gotten the Dragon to stand down, and that was a debt he would have to take into consideration in the future. After all, their amiable pickpocket might just have a limitation on his good nature - in fact, Actor, remembering those oh-so-cold blue eyes, that equally cold warning, was very certain of that. 

And as for Meghada, he remembered her speaking of her oldest brother, Michael, someone she'd compared Actor to on more than one occasion. This last occasion was after they'd gotten Craig back to the Mansion, when she'd asked Actor, him specifically, to drive her home to get a few things. There had been no preamble, just the calm voice explaining, those gold brown eyes glittering in the moonlight.

"The first born he was, Michael, my oldest brother, and he thought that gave him first rights to everything. His opinion was to count more than ours, his views to have more weight, his needs to outweigh ours. Our parents tried to teach him that he was mistaken in all that, but it took the rest of us to make him truly understand the truth of what they were saying. Just ask him, now. I believe you will find he has a very different perspective. Well, a couple of live very annoyed river eels in his bed, along with a few other such happenings, it does tend to get the point across. Just a reminder those eels were, that such were not the ONLY things with exceedingly long and sharp teeth, you understand. Now, we are on much better terms with each other. An occasional disagreement, yes, for he still tends to encroach, be more overbearing than is quite pleasing, but on the whole, the relationship is not near so likely to lean toward bloodshed. T'would make our parents most unhappy were it to be otherwise, you understand. Just as it would make Craig and the others most unhappy if . . . Well, you get my meaning." There had been a long pause, then she'd added, "though, I'm sure the team would get over it, should circumstances require such remedial action."

And her eyes were calm, and cold, and glittered as a diamond cut with uncountable facets. As calm and cold as her voice.

Yes, Meghada had limits to her good nature as well, and hers wasn't nearly so encompassing as Goniff's were.

*  
As for Chief? He'd waited, rolling that toothpick around thoughtfully, til Goniff finished what he had to say, had headed off to check on Casino, then Garrison, before HE put in HIS two cents worth. Well, perhaps it was more than just two cents.

"Just so you know, Actor, if it comes to that? What Goniff was saying? I'm good with that. And if he needs help carrying the body? I'm good with that too." And then he got up and left the room.

And Actor was left sitting in the room alone, to consider all he'd heard, all he had seen, and drew a deep breath, thankful that he hadn't been cast out entirely. Thankful also that he was breathing, wasn't bleeding, for there had been a few moments when that wasn't a given. Oh, he'd seen Goniff cradling that palm knife, had seen the urgent need, suppressed, but still present, within the pickpocket.

No, Actor figured all in all, he was really quite lucky. 

But still, there was just a trace of lingering resentment within him. For surely, if they, Garrison and Goniff, had just been more open with him, had let him know it wasn't just a casual attachment but something much deeper, had SAID the one word that would have made all the difference, he would never have interferred. They should have trusted him that far, trusted that he would understand.

And then, in the silence of the empty room, the remaining scales fell from his eyes. {"Indeed, that was the problem. They DID trust me, placed too MUCH confidence in me, in my ability to see and hear and comprehend. MINE was the failure, MINE the refusal to see what they had told me, as clearly as they could."}

For in thinking over all he'd heard, from Craig, from Goniff, he realized that, while neither one had so much as mentioned the word 'love', it shouldn't really have been necessary. Some things just spoke for themselves, indeed, shouted the truth to the very skies, if one had become sufficiently enlightened as to listen. If one's own ego did not shield one's eyes and ears so as to deny the reality.

{"Perhaps that is what true enlightenment is, setting one's ego to one side in order to truly see and listen."}

The call for lights-out came, but he continued to sit in the darkness, thinking on what he had learned, about himself, about others, til the darkness once again became light. 

And in the new day, he started to reform the bonds he had damaged, grateful that he'd been given the chance to do so. 

It would not be an easy thing, he was sure of that. But for a newly-enlightened man, perhaps it would be possible. It would certainly be something worth striving for. 

Epilogue:

A door opened, the well-oiled hinges not giving a hint of passage. Soundless footsteps on the stair, a shadow in the doorway.

"Craig, you need to go upstairs and go to bed. You try sleeping scrunched up like that, gonna wake up a pretzel," a low voice whispered in the darkness.

"I'm not asleep," came an equally low reply.

"No, I didn't figure so. You should be, though. Come on, now; up the stairs and to bed."

"I go to bed, I'll just lay there thinking. I don't want to think. Or I WILL go to sleep, and then I'll just dream, and I don't want to do that either."

An understanding nod came from the shadowed figure as it moved farther into the room. "Easy enough answer to both of those, you know," he said, amusement evident in his tone.

"Oh?" Garrison asked with a little hesitation. With Goniff, you were never sure where his active mind would lead. Garrison could think of a few very pleasant ways to spend the night that wouldn't involve him having to think OR dream, but they were at the Mansion, and that eliminated any that immediately came to mind. Goniff knew that, surely wouldn't suggest . . .

"Well, acourse. You just leave it all up to me; I'll 'andle everything, neat as a pin. See, I'LL do all the thinking for tonight; take that part off your shoulders. I'll do the dreaming too. Want me to tell you w'at I'm thinking? I'd tell you w'at I'll be dreaming, but it's all pretty much six of one, 'alf dozen of the other, mostly."

Garrison sat up from his uncomfortable position on the cramped loveseat. There had been something comforting in that offer, along with a goodly amount of teasing.

"Alright, I'll take the bait," he replied with a chuckle. {"I have a feeling this is going to be good!"}

And the blond pickpocket came to perch on the arm of the loveseat. 

"Well, you just snug down 'ere in the corner, crosswise like, lean your 'ead back on me, and I'll tell you."

And into the night, a low raspy voice told of a future when the fighting would be left behind. A future when the Cottage down the road would be a place they called 'home'. A future where they'd be just Craig and Goniff, and no one but them would be having a say in how they lived their lives. 

"And 'Gaida will cook wonderful things for us to eat, and we'll all three read new books and listen to new music, along with all our old favorites, of course. And best of all -"

His voice trailed off as he leaned down to drop just one light kiss on the blond head nestled against him -

Garrison's voice showed he was more than half asleep. "And best of all, what?" he asked with a deep yawn.

Goniff gave a low chuckle, and leaned over to whisper in Garrison's ear, "best of all - I'll let you play with my sparklie collection."

A faint snort turned into a faint snore, and Craig Garrison slid into a deep sleep, letting those thoughts, those dreams hold him tightly. 

And Goniff sat there, through the long night, thinking his thoughts, dreaming his dreams. {"And the best, the absolutely BEST thing of all, we'll be together, all three of us, and there won't be any more lonely nights, not ever again, not for any of us, my bright and beautiful sparklie."}


End file.
